Finishing a book is an intersting experience, full of many different emotions. I just finished one tonight. First, as you realise you don’t have much book left, there is the expectation, the race to want to finish to find out what will happen. Then, when it is finished there is both the satisfaction of completing the story, along with the sadness that it is now over. Finally, there is the excitement and anticipation of choosing what to read next.
Perhaps I’m making the whole experience sound more intense then it really is, but I’m on holiday, so I’m relishing the time to read.
I am currently also in the process of writing a book. Some times I can’t help but wonder, will I manage to get it published? Some day could somebody stay up late reading my book to find out what happens? Who knows. It all depends how good the book is. I’m too close to the story right now to judge that. In the end, I do hope to publish it, I do hope that it is a success, but regardless of all that, I will write it because it is a story I want to tell. Once a story grabs you, it simply must be told.